Thomas O'Sullivan & Edith Montgomery

Sick

Edith was not seen for a couple of weeks, not at school, not around the neighborhood, not in the park, not anywhere. I called her, texted her, knocked on her door, waited outside for a whole day but it was almost as if she had disappeared.

But, one day, after six weeks, in March, my persistence paid off, my knock was answered and the door creaked open. There she was, or half of her, peering at me with one, dark eye. The light had gone, her blue eyes now dull, and the bags under her eye told me she hadn't slept in days.

"Thomas? What are you doing here so early?" She whispered. I shrugged and smiled.

"I came to see the most beautiful girl in the__"

"Don't. Please. What do you want?" She interrupted. I shrank back a bit, confused.

"I... I just want to... to see you, Edie." I stuttered. "You've been gone for weeks." I added. She stared at me, before sighing and stepping out, shutting the door behind her.

"Okay. I'm here. Happy?" She hissed.

"Baby, what's the matter? Do you want to come home with me?" I enquired.

"I'm sick. I can't." She replied bluntly. I took hold of her hand, for once it looked alright.

"What's wrong, Edie. Cold? Flu?" I questioned. She shrugged.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" I echoed.

"Nothing." She answered, hostility flaring in her voice. What had I done? Had I been bad?

"Come home with me." I begged. "Mum and Dad won't mind, they're fine if you're sick." I continued. "Is your dad home?" I asked timidly and she shook her head. "Come on. It'll be fine, I promise, babe. I can carry you home if you want." I offered, tugging at her hand.

She briefly closed her blue eyes and nodded reluctantly. So, I led her home, hand in hand, feeling a little happy that I had her back, but worried that she was so out of sorts. I had to find out what was wrong.

I opened the front door for her, she went inside, hugging herself with her arms.

"Where's the bathroom, Thomas?" She asked, sounding soft and scared.

I pointed to a little door under the stairs.

She immediately ran for it and slammed it shut.

I frowned, shut the front door and jogged up to the bathroom.

"Edith? Baby?" I called.

I heard coughing, spluttering, gagging. She really wasn't well.

"Hey, Edie, I'm going to come in, alright." I told her and slowly opened the door.

There she was, on her knees, retching over the toilet. I bent down beside her to hold her short brown hair out of the way as she threw up into the toilet.

Then, footsteps.

"Thomas? Thomas, darling is everything alright? Thomas?" The cries became more urgent as my mother flew down the stairs. "Oh my God. Thomas!" She exclaimed, jumping the last two steps and skidding up to the door of the bathroom. I twisted round and glared at her, Edith still throwing up.

She gasped.

"Oh my, Oh... Edith, sweetheart. Oh... erm... are you okay? Do you need anything?" She asked.

No reply.

I rubbed her back and looked up at my mother.

"She wasn't feeling well and her dad wasn't home so I said she could come here and you would be alright with it." I explained quickly. Mum blinked.